


No Need to Hide Anymore

by Lady_Phenyx



Series: Whumptober 2019 [28]
Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Parent Joxaren | The Joxter, Hurt/Comfort, ask to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 15:29:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21163919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: Snufkin's used to hiding it when he's hurt. It's second nature at this point.Even around people he cares about - like, say, Moomin.But not even Snufkin can hide forever.Whumptober Day 24: Secret Injury





	No Need to Hide Anymore

Snufkin winced as he stepped wrong, feeling the twinge all the way up his leg.

His leg, his ribs, and his arm all ached.

When he was out in the world, it was important not to let on that he was hurt. There were people out there who would take advantage of a wounded mumrik, would see a hurt vagabond as easy prey, it was far better to hide it.

So when he'd gotten hurt on the way back to Moomin Valley, he'd hidden it despite there being no one to see him.

Despite the fact that this was one place where he could afford to be hurt. It was so much second nature at this point, so ingrained, that he didn't think to do anything but hide it.

And he'd...forgotten to tell everyone else. Not figurative, not pretending, he had forgotten he didn't have to just...hide. Don't tell. They'll be worried, they'll be upset to learn what could happen to him out there...and the thoughts spiraled from there, into the things he knew could happen to a wounded mumrik if they trusted the wrong person out in the world.

Moomin's welcoming hug had nearly made him scream at the pressure around his ribs, choked down before he could let out more than a squeak, one that could be passed off as Moomin squeezing a bit too tight.

Moomin had a growth spurt over the winter, so he could be excused for thinking he'd accidentally squeezed too hard.

Moomin apologized again and again, laughed off by Snufkin.

Snufkin went off to set up his tent, promising he'd meet Moomin soon, once he had that finished.

Alone, he hurried to set it up and duck inside.

Snufkin pulled off his smock, pressing a hand against his throbbing side, and stared in dismay when his hand came away wet with blood.

\---XXX---

Snufkin rewrapped the cut on his side, the one on his leg, but...he needed to lay still and rest.

Usually, that wouldn't be too much of a problem – just lay on the bank and fish.

But...there was Moomin. And Snorkmaiden. Little My and Joxter, who'd started coming in the summer to meet with Snufkin and the rest, happy to lounge around Moomin Valley.

And the 'Welcome Spring, Snufkin, and Joxter' party.

He should tell. Snufkin knew he should.

But...telling meant they would want to know how he got hurt. Why he took so long to tell them. Things that would worry and upset them all.

And yet...all this running around meant he wasn't healing, either.

\---XXX---

Snufkin limped behind the others on the way to the beach, the group far ahead of him by now. Well, he would be limping if he weren't still trying to pretend he was fine.

“What's wrong?” a voice asked from the trees overhead, and Snufkin paused, glancing down along the path to where Moomin and the others had gotten ahead of him before glaring up into the leaves,.

Joxter was lying along one of the branches, his tail swaying beneath him in a deceptively lazy manner that Snufkin recognized as worry.

He'd been watching Snufkin oddly throughout the week they'd both been here, but hadn't spoken up yet. It had just been a matter of time, it seemed.

“Nothing,” Snufkin said shortly.

“I smell blood.”

Snufkin stopped short. Joxter dropped down from the tree, landing lightly on the path. “I've smelled it off and on all week. What happened?”

Snufkin looked away. “It doesn't matter, I'm fine.”

Joxter tilted his head. “If I still smell blood, then...”

Snufkin didn't say anything, and Joxter sighed softly. “Will you tell Moominmamma?”

“When was the last time you admitted to her that you were hurt?”

“Hm. Touche.”

The two mumriks carefully didn't look at each other. They both hid when they were hurt – Joxter a bit more literally.

Snufkin stifled a chuckle. “Remember last year, when you disappeared for a week after hurting yourself and Moominpappa dragged you back for Moominmamma to dose up?”

Joxter made a sour face. Tales of that bath were being spread across Moomin Valley and growing in the telling.

“I would have been fine. She didn't need to do that,” he grumbled.

“Yes she did, you were filthy,” Snufkin countered. Laughing was making his ribs hurt, but it was worth it to see the highly indignant act his father was putting on – as if he were channeling Mrs. Fillyjonk at her worst. “And it would have gotten worse without her, you know that.”

“So do you,” Joxter tossed back. “so why haven't you told her?”

Snufkin shrank, closing in on himself. “It's been a week,” he said quietly. “It'll be fine.”

“It's been a week, and you're still hurting,” Joxter said, stepping closer. He reached out toward his son, slow, so Snufkin saw it coming, and laid a paw on Snufkin's shoulder, the other tilting his son's chin up. “They'll be more hurt the longer you wait to let them know.” He smiled at Snufkin, laughing at himself. “What a predicament, huh? We found people who care about us and want to take care of us without trying to tie us down, and we both panic and hide.”

Joxter came in slow, resting his forehead against Snufkin's, his hand slipping into his son's hair. “We're quite the pair, aren't we?”

They stayed that way for a moment, eyes closed and just feeling each other be there.

Then came the sound of Moomin calling Snufkin's name, the small group of Moomin, Snorkmaiden, Little My, and Sniff coming back to see what had stopped Snufkin.

“It's up to you,” Joxter said softly, stepping back from Snufkin. “Probably best to get it over with.”

The look Snufkin gave him could have been a dictionary portrait for the word 'disgruntled'.

Snufkin opened and closed his mouth a few times, obviously thinking through and discarding several options as the others watched.

Little My glared up at him, tapping her foot, and Snufkin sighed. “I'm afraid I need to go back to Moomin House,” he said reluctantly. “I...” he hesitated again before tugging his hat down over his face. “I thought this was going to heal on its own but it didn't.”

“You're hurt‽” Moomin cried. Snufkin yelped as he was scooped up, unable to see it coming with his hat over his eyes, and Moomin set off for Moomin House at a run.

“Moomin, slow down!” Snufkin cried, the words jolted out of him as Moomin's run shook his healing ribs. “Too – too rough!”

Moomin immediately dropped down to a swift walk while Little My ran ahead.

\---XXX---

Moominmamma was waiting when they arrived, gentle and efficient as she checked the bruising and sprains on Snufkin's leg, the cut along his calf and the one along his side, the bad bruising on arm and ribs.

The rest watched from around the room. Moomin and Snorkmaiden huddled close while Little My perched on the arm of the sofa Snufkin was sitting on. Sniff and Moominpappa stood near the stairs while Joxter leaned on the wall, his hat tilted down to hide his face.

Moominmamma redid the bandages on all of Snufkin's hurts, waiting to ask what they were all thinking until she was re-wrapping Snufkin's chest, tighter than he'd been able to do himself to help his sore ribs.

“What happened?”

Snufkin looked away, wishing he had his hat to hide under. “It was a rough year. I don't like to dwell on it.”

Moominmamma cupped Snufkin's cheek, going in slow so he could choose the contact. “You can tell us anything you want, dear. Or nothing, if that's what you need. But it hurts to keep it all in, sometimes. More than the physical hurts do.”

“Why didn't you tell us you were hurting?” Moomin burst out, wringing the tip of his tail.

Snufkin couldn't look Moomin in the eye, and he didn't want to lie. Not here and now.

Little My scrambled up next to her brother and poked him in the side, ignoring the various cries of her name as Snufkin curled up – silently, she noticed.

She put her paws on Snufkin's cheeks now that he was at her level, making him look at her. “Well?”

Snufkin huffed softly. Moomin picked up Little My, holding her out at arm's length to try and prevent a bite. “Little My, don't, he's allowed secrets.”

“Not when it gets him hurt,” Little My snapped.

Snufkin looked across the room, where Joxter was leaning against the wall, his hat tilted back now to watch. Their eyes met, and they discussed it silently for a moment. Snufkin bit at his lip before nodding.

“When you're a vagabond, traveling on your own, it can be dangerous to let people know you're hurt,” Joxter said, drawing the attention to himself. He looked at Moomin and spoke frankly. “Pretty sure my son's trying to keep you from worrying about him while he's traveling in the winter. Sometimes, when you're out there on your own, it can be easy to forget that people can be kind.”

“It becomes automatic,” Snufkin said softly. “And then there's no good time to admit it, and then time keeps passing, and, well...”

He glanced up at Moomin and Snorkmaiden, at Moominmamma and Little My, looking back at him with hurt (and anger, on the part of Little My) and sighed. “I can't...I don't...it hurts everyone when you finally tell them.”

Moominmamma brushed his shoulder. “We're here for you,” she said again. “At least I don't have to wrestle you into a tub like I did your father.”

That startled a small chuckle out of Snufkin. “I still hurt you,” he said softly.

The sofa creaked softly as Moomin sat next to him. “I am hurt, but it's worse that you had to learn to hide when it hurts,” he said. “Don't try to protect me like that again, okay?”

His paw laid next to Snufkin's as an open invitation, one Snufkin took. “I'll try to remember sooner next time,” he promised, looking to Moomin, to Snorkmaiden and Moominmamma and Little My. Snorkmaiden stepped closer, slowly reaching out to touch Snufkin's shoulder, and he laid his paw on hers.

“You'd better,” Little My grumbled. She glared at her brother, crossing her arms. “People care about you here, dummy. We want to worry about you.”

Snufkin looked up at Snorkmaiden, over to Moomin, around at the other faces looking back at him, and felt something tight in his chest ease.

“...yeah.

\---XXX---

Snufkin was confined to bed for the next three days, on Moominmamma's orders, so that his cuts and sprains would get a chance to heal without him opening them again running about as if he weren't hurt.

She compromised on it and let the bed rest happen mostly on the veranda, so Snufkin wouldn't feel too closed in.

Finding a balance between 'keeping Snufkin company' and 'fussing' took a bit to find.

...somehow, it helped to know that his father was ready and willing to carry Snufkin wherever he wanted to go if it got to be too much.

But something in Snufkin was enjoying the attention, embarrassing as it was to admit.

\---XXX---

Snufkin was back on his feet in a week, thought he was taking it easy yet.

And it was nice to just lie back with Snorkmaiden and Moomin, Little My and Joxter, at different times and places.

\---XXX---

Two years later, when Snufkin found himself coming into Moomin Valley with a sprained wrist, he made his way straight to Moomin House.

He'd made a promise, and they'd made one back, even if they hadn't used words.

He wasn't going to forget that.


End file.
